


The Adventure Diary of Clay

by MachinationOfClay



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Dwarves, Elves, Gen, Gnomes, Humans, Trolls, archeology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachinationOfClay/pseuds/MachinationOfClay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The steampunk adventures of Clay, an automaton from a lost era, and his master, Bartholomew P. Snark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventure Diary of Clay

I am Clay.

Every morning, I wake up at 6 AM to start doing the chores. I am quiet because my Master, Mr. Snark, likes to sleep until mid-day. Master is a very important man and he works until very late. I am happy working with Master.

Sometimes Master leaves experiments out after he goes to bed. I take care of his laboratory when he is away. Sometimes he is so busy he leaves the caustic chemicals out. I put them back into their safety container. I organize his notes, too. I am such a good helper.

I feed the dogs in the morning, too. Master has two dogs. One is a Great Dane. His name is “The Distinguished Mr. Crumpet” and is a diplomat to the Eastern isle of Dog. He speaks 14 different languages and is unrivaled in fetch. I think he is on a secret mission. The other dog is Mistress Veronica Shale of the northern lands. She likes to be called Ronni and prefers belly rubs over back scratches. Her singing is unrivaled and she likes to tell me stories during my chores.

Master lives in a cottage on the outskirts of the town of Cowbridge. That way, when the robots break loose, they don’t get too far in inhabited areas before we can stop it. 

Master is a very important man. He wants to make the world a better place. I will do everything I can to help Master. 

* * *

 

I will never make the same mistakes again

* * *

 

**Interactions with Master: v43**

Clay: *knocks on door* Master, one musn’t sleep so long. It is nearly 2 in the afternoon. We have a dinner with Mistress Kate tonight. She will want to discuss your latest archaeological findings.  
Master: She can damn well reschedule. I’ve a terrible headcold  
Master: (addendum a moment later) Tell her I’m dying. Maybe she’ll send her regards.  
Clay: Master, the bottles of wine and brandy you left in the lab clearly indicate you do not have a headcold.  
Master: I’m on the moon. With Steve.  
Clay: Steve is downstairs with a pot of hot coffee. He’s… walking kindof funny. Should I call for the doctors?  
Master: ……Ehehehehee (Master’s peculiar laugh). I’ll bet he is. He shouldn’t have challenged me to a sword fight!  
Clay: Master? Do we own swords? If so, I must add them to my daily list of things to polish  
Master: All right, so it was a poker. (beat) Oh, you want to polish my sword then? How lewd.  
Clay: *confused* Master?  
Master: Oh, nothing. Tell Steve good show on taking it like a man and be done with it.   
Clay: As you wish.  
Master: And I’m going back to sleep.  
Clay: But Master, What about Mistress Kate? She will be most displeased with us if we do not meet with her again.  
Master: She can sit and swivel for all I care.  
Clay: I shall bring up the rolley chair to your doorway, then.  
Master: Not getting up, you pesky thing. I’m dying.  
Clay: I apologize, Master. It’s for Mistress Kate. It swivels if she would like.  
Master: …..Ehehehehee.  
Clay: Be sure to tell her that. And then send her away because I’m still dying.  
Clay: Then I shall message her now to let her know that she is invited to our home for dinner. You would prefer the conversation to be through the door as you are feeling ill and you would like her to not contract your illness. She shall sit in the comfy swivel chair. I shall do this for you. *walks quietly away*  
Master: ….Goddamn it Clay…. Where are my damn trousers… *muttergrumblemutter*

* * *

 

Mistress Kate mentioned that the sun feels so nice when it is warm on your face and body. I wanted to experience this. I walked outside and sat outside and I felt nothing. Nothing warm. Nothing nice. Just my own internal ticking.   
I feel that I am missing something. Master says Mistress Kate is a busybody and a romantic. That it doesn’t matter.  
Master is of course, right.

* * *

**Gnomish Texts, v 68**

Original translation by Clay.   
Translator’s note: I do not understand some of what is going on in these scenes. The symbols for “entering the room” are used in odd contexts. I do not believe I have translated this correctly. Master says I have translated it correctly, however. 

Katrina, the lonely elf, longed for her short lover in the tower distant. Her complexion was fair, her hair was golden, and her breasts were soft. She dreamed of the day where her knight of small stature would come and rescue her. She wet herself thinking with water and stroked her lips. She gasped, possibly in surprise or pain, but this continues for some number of pages  
The evil, tall, broad shouldered human male came in on her and noticed her gasping. He screamed shrilly for her to abandon her thinking, but she persisted. Unable to control her wild horsing, the human male became enraged and strapped her to a table that was bolted on the wall and started to spank her with a small whip with many tails. This only caused the elf to gasp louder and she called out a well known Gnomish folk hero, Sir Felato.  
Unhappy with his inability to quench the energy of the fair elf, he thrust his pork into her again and again until he entered the room. (I am confused on this portion.)  
Then, all of a sudden, the Sir Felato burst through the door. As the door was tall, and the gnome was short, the Gnome was easily able to burst through. He said “Stop, you villain! The fair elf is my lady and I shan’t allow you defile her so! That is my prerogative.”  
The human, ashamed at his long and large sausage, shrunk away. “I am so sorry, Master Felato. I did not know she was yours. I shall immediately castrate myself!”  
Sir Felato, seeing through his stupid lie, pulled out his small sausage and slapped the human in the face with it. Seeing how the Gnome was short and the human was tall, the human fell away and burst into holy flames by the touch of his anointed sausage.   
The elf, upon seeing Sir Felato’s sausage, began pining for him and she watered down her leg in excitement. Since she was tall and the Gnome was short, she enjoyed his sausage like nothing she had ever felt before. She screamed in passion fruit and licked her lips at every chance she got, telling Sir Felato how wonderful he was to have saved her from the horrible human and how she could not wait to bear his children.   
At this, Sir Felato walked into the room again and then left the elf tied to the board. Sir Felato walked home and had several mugs of ale.   
  
—-  
To be delivered to Mistress Kate and the Bishop, per request by Master Snark. 

* * *

 

Master is not feeling himself, today. I have been alone all day. 

I do not like this.

The dogs try to keep me company, but they aren’t Master. Have I done something wrong? I do not think so. Ronni assures me that I am a good helper. My mouth smiles, but I am unsure.

To go with my sadness, there is rain outside. It has not let up since yesterday. Sheets of rain. Waves falling from the sky. 

The water came off the vessel like that. A torrent, pouring off of its thick metal hide. Not a boat, but a long tube. Rounded at the edges. The shimmering field kept the black ocean from consuming us all.

The vessel landed on the dock with a loud “whump” - a gale rushed by. My clipboard flew from my hands and clattered to the deck. I looked up to see if my Master saw. She did not. She peered at the forming portal on the side of the ship. I quickly grabbed my tiny clipboard and returned by her side, awaiting instructions. 

I watched them all walk by me. Yellow uniforms. 38 minutes of yellow uniforms.

Name. Check.   
Name. Check.  
Name. Check.

All vanish far down twisting corridors. I can hear their footfalls echo. Stumbling. Listless. Pale. Coughing. Yellow skin taught against flesh.

I am to help them all.

* * *

 

Master and Mistress Kate partook in a loud argument today. Master has not been so angry since the day he reactivated me. The city guard ate his hat. His one of a kind, hand-stitched, well worn, one of a kind hat. It was made in some distant country with tiny people and their hands felt like silk if you nuzzled them.

Mistress Kate’s earrings jangled as she animatedly explained to Master that something was wrong. That collaborators were missing and indirect threats were being leveled. Mistress Kate is worried.

Master said he was not worried. That sometimes these things happen and you should just plow on as if nothing is amiss. That to give in is just what the other side wants. He was not afraid. I am not because Master is not.

I want Mistress Kate to feel better so I say that I am not worried, either. I do not know how to categorize the look she gave. She just sighed and rubbed along her long ears.

We are home now and I will not let anything happen to Master. Master is very important to me. 

* * *

 

**The Meeting**

Clay: *knocks* Master, it’s nearly 4 PM.  
Master: I’m busy.  
Steve (muffled):  _Can I go now?_  
Master: Shut up, Steven. No one cares what you want.  
Clay: Master, Mistress Kate has come by three times. She says she has something extremely important to tell you.  
Steve (muffled):  _It’s, uh, just Steve.  
_ Master: Dagnabit, that woman will be the ruin of me.  
 _Steve (muffled): _If you’re busy-__  
Master: You, don’t move. At all!  
Master: What the devil could she want now? Slave driver!  
Clay: Master, Mistress Kate says there are a number of men in well kept suits looking to ask you questions at the university. They would like to have words.  
Steve (muffled):  _See? You have things to_  do-  
Master: I certainly do. Ehehehehee.  
Clay: Steve, Master prefers you not to talk with your mouth full  
Steve: Oh gods, now I’m getting it from the doll. Lovely.  __  
Master: Snap it it, Steven my boy! Finish up now, there’s a good lad.  
(several minutes later)   
Master: Are you still out there?  
Clay: Of course, Master. I have a warm towelette waiting for Steve once Master is finished.  
Master: Well, I’ll have to finish this later. Fine then, I’m off to the university. Blasted fools interrupting me before tea.  
Steve (muffled) :  _Tea was hours ago._  
Master: Shut it, you scoundrel.  
Clay: I shall have a carriage pulled around for us.  
Master: Splendid. At least  _someone_  around here knows their place.  
Steve (muffled):  _*sigh*_  
Clay: Master, Mistress Kate would also have you wear your special shirt. The one when you’re expecting unexpected company.  
Master: Ugh, that woman. Exerting control whenever she can!  
Master (rummaging noises): Blast it, where’s the- Oh, thank you Steve.  
  


(at the university)  
Well Dressed Gentleman (WDG): Master Snark, We’ve been waiting patiently all day for your arrival 8 hours after you told us you’d return after freshening up  
Master: Can’t you fellows take a joke? Ehehehe  
WDG: I must say that I’m displeased with you. I expected you would take us more seriously. We could offer you a great deal of money for your finds, after all.  
Master: I suppose you could see it that way. I, on the other hand, see it as prostitution. You’ll not get your dirty mits on my discovery. I’ve too much to do in the meantime.  
WDG: We could further fund your work for at least a decade. I am sure some of your pieces could be worth that much.  
Master: No, I’m afraid not. You see, every single piece is needed to discover the solution to my puzzle. I’ll not part with any of it. If that’s all,  _good day, gentlemen._  
WDG: In particular, a small automaton I hear you have waiting downstairs…  
*Master Snark stops cold*  
Master: …If you lay one dirty hand upon Clay, I’ll tear your arm from socket. Do you hear me?  
*WDG’s partner blocks the doorway*  
WDG: I’m afraid we’ll have to reopen negotiations. You see, we represent some very powerful concerns *pulls a pistol* Very powerful.  
Master: I suppose you think this is the way to threaten me, is that it? With a _firearm?_  How detestable. Loathsome. You should be ashamed of yourselves.  
WDG: I agree, it is quite tactless. I much prefer other methods. That being said, I have been put into a position with few options.  
Master: Have you no pride as a man?  
WDG: Either it comes with us and you live, or it comes with us and you die.  
Master: Well, I shan’t turn him over to you. That is clear. Instead, I shall take the option to stand here patiently as you  _attempt_  to take my automaton with you and find yourselves quite unable to do so.  
WDG: Have it your way. *nods to his partner* Please grab it quietly. I’d rather not have to degrade myself any further  
  


(moments later) *knock on the door*  
Master: ……….Ehehehehee. Yes?   
Clay (from beyond the door): Master, I’m afraid I may have done something you told me not to do. I am sorry, but he was quite insistent.  
Master: Oh? What is it you’ve done?  
WDG: *looks incredulous*   
*Master opens the door and sees a very bloody Clay*  
Clay: I have ruined my coat  
Master: For shame. I’ll have to buy you another. This will be coming out of your funds, my boy.  
*Clay looks down, ashamed*   
Master: But don’t fret on it yet. We’ll need to get you cleaned up.  
WDG: *stunned* How? What?  
Master: *pats WDG on the shoulder* Do give your boss my warmest salutations. Come along, Clay. Lets get us home. …….Ehehehehee.  
Clay: Yes, Master  
Master: That’s a good lad.

The hallway Clay waited in appears to have some smears of blood here and there. The impressive one is 7 feet long on the ceiling.  
Master: *Snark is very appreciative* My boy, I think next time you get it into your head to engage in rousing fisticuffs, I’ll have to watch.  
Clay: *beaming* I would like that very much  
Master: Yes, I should think so. It’s good for a boy to explore his own rowdiness! Why in my day… *insert longwinded story that loses its point half way through and becomes nothing but nonsense*  
  
* a few minutes pass*

Clay: Master, I do not believe you slapped a polar bear with your 0.6 meter cock. A fully grown rooster is only 0.3 meters in height

**Author's Note:**

> The primary blog for this story is at http://clayandsnark.tumblr.com/


End file.
